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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895739">come home to my heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/profound_garden/pseuds/profound_garden'>profound_garden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Women's Soccer RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, they do have a fight so brief angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:41:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895739</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/profound_garden/pseuds/profound_garden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>just a few snippets of Jordan and Leah being stupid and in love and stupid in love with each other</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leah Williamson/Jordan Nobbs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>come home to my heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ask and ye shall receive... eventually! title from lorde's supercut</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Naturally, Leah manages to arrive at the fields at the exact moment when Jordan completely wipes out in a patch of mud while trying to demonstrate a drill to the teenagers at the training clinic she volunteers at.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s wet and muggy and Jordan’s pretty sure she has mud all over her back, but just the sight of Leah causes a grin to bloom over her face. She looks as model-esque as ever, hands tucked elegantly into the pockets of her posh trenchcoat that Jordan is pretty sure cost more than their television set, and even against the drab English sky, Leah’s fair hair glints as she moves her head, chatting amiably with one of the parents scattered throughout the stands. She catches Jordan’s eye for a second though, and even across the field Jordan recognizes the minute eyebrow raise that signifies Leah fully witnessed her slip earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The players, of course, don’t waste a second before hooting and whistling and making obnoxious kissing noises — Jordan turns around to scold them, but “Aren’t you lot a bit old for this?” dissolves in her mouth when one of the cheekier boys pipes up, “Your girlfriend’s rather peng, Coach Nobbs!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wave of “ooh”s and laughter only crescendo when Jordan’s only response is an unconvincing eye roll over a traitorous blush and involuntary smirk, to the point where only the threat of running extra laps is enough to finally get the kids to shut up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She still kisses Leah in the car park, bent over the hood of her Range Rover like some kind of 15 year old’s fantasy come true, and if she winks at her players gaping through their mothers’ SUV windows, well, she’s entitled to having a little fun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow, Leah’s agent manages to get her on the cover of a magazine — a small one, to be fair, a newer publication focusing on women and fashion but still, a cover is a cover and Leah is buzzing. She texts Jordan updates at the shoot every chance she gets, and Jordan dutifully responds with strings of exuberant emojis each time. Jordan doesn’t think there’s ever been a time where she knew Leah and wasn’t amazed by her, doesn’t think she’ll ever not be proud of Leah for the rest of their lives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the magazine comes out Jordan buys every copy at the first corner store she finds that carries it. She saves one to frame and uses the rest to carpet their living room floor so that it’s impossible to take a step without stepping on Leah’s glossy face. When Leah comes home she takes one look at the array and smacks Jordan on the shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You idiot, the point is for <em>other</em> people to buy them!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are sparkling, though, and when Jordan leans up for a kiss, Leah swings her around, both of them smiling giddily into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Couldn’t help it, Lee. I figured I could use a reminder of what you looked like, since I’m starting to get mixed up between you and all the other covergirls I’m seeing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time, Leah picks up a magazine off the floor to hit Jordan with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another time, Jordan goes with Leah to one of her shoots — this time just a session with a local friend-of-a-friend photographer. Leah had set it up over Instagram DMs, assuring Jordan that it would be a relaxed, casual setting. The professional studio they arrive at, though, is far from a home setup, with a makeup team and wardrobe consultants flitting around towering light setups and camera gear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jordan feels a little underdressed, in her t-shirt and ripped jeans, but she ends up in a conversation with one of the fashion interns about streetwear that lasts until Leah’s shoot is over. They’re discussing the latest Arsenal home kit when Leah walks up to the pair with an amused smile and loops an arm easily around Jordan’s waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Best fashion sense on the team, this one,” Leah beams, “behind me, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, in the car, Jordan makes a joke about feeling like a bum next to Leah in her glamorous designer outfits, and Leah looks over sharply from the passenger’s seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s nonsense, Jord. You know I’ve been telling everyone you’ve got the best dress sense on the team, I mean it. I mean come on, isn’t this a Balenciaga t-shirt? Caitlin’s been rubbing off on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jordan just chuckles — she honestly didn’t mean anything more from the joke, but it’s touching how quickly and sincerely Leah comes to her defense.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew you liked my clothes. Keep up the flattery, maybe I’ll let you borrow some.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get too cocky. I still like your clothes best when you aren’t wearing them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes Jordan an embarrassingly long moment to understand, which makes Leah’s laugh when she finally does all the harder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not always perfect. Of course it’s not. Jordan leaves her sweaty training kit on the floor that Leah just cleaned. Leah plays music while Jordan’s trying to study. Jordan accidentally schedules a rehab session the same day they’re having lunch with Leah’s mother in London. Leah goes out for drinks with Keira and Rosella and Jordan stays up all night waiting for her to come back and they’re both snippy and passive aggressive with each other for the next two days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jordan’s forgetfulness is part and parcel of who she is, and Leah tries her best to accept it. But sometimes she reaches a breaking point, like when Jordan forgets to pick up the bread Leah needs for her pre-match sandwiches for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fourth fucking time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and the ensuing shouting match they have that night last long enough that both of them lose their voices. And Leah loves a good night out, and Jordan knows this, and is happy to tag along most nights. But when it’s 1 am in some London nightclub 40 minutes from their flat and Leah is three sheets to the wind, dancing dangerously closely to a guy that’s been leering down her shirt the whole night, Jordan snaps. The car ride home after she drags Leah out is completely silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they finally get back to the flat, Jordan is exhausted. The adrenaline that had been pumping earlier had worn off in the car, and she realized she had been clenching her body tensely since the nightclub. When she drops the keys on the counter, though, the sound shatters the silence they had been holding between them and Leah wheels around to face her with a venomous look in her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck was that back there, Jordan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lee, please. You’re drunk. Can we just go to bed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no. We’re doing this now. I can handle a few drinks, Jordan. I don’t need you babysitting me like some fucking child.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The anger from the club flares back up in Jordan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that right? So I guess you were just draping yourself all over that chav at the club just because you wanted to, yeah? Your girlfriend’s literally in the room and you think it’s totally alright for you to start grinding on every bloke that gives your tits a second look?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leah laughs incredulously — a sharp, bitter bark that rings through the flat. “Okay, fuck you, Jordan. Is that what all this is about? You’re not my fucking chaperone, you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m a grown woman and you still can’t trust me not to cheat on you? You can really be so dense sometimes, I swear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Jordan roars. Leah’s words feel like poison under her skin. “I’m not stupid!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leah steps back, her furious look interrupted for a second as surprise flashes above her face. Jordan can feel tears prickling in her eyes, and Leah’s face is red, too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jord-” she starts, but Jordan cuts her off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say another fucking word,” she seethes. “I’m sleeping on the couch. Go to bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t over, Jord,” Leah snaps before storming off. Jordan wipes at her eyes angrily before collapsing onto the couch. Staring at the ceiling, she replays their argument over and over, more regret soaking into her (and tears into the couch cushions) each time. She lies there, in a tortured half-sleep, until she hears the door of their bedroom open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jord,” Leah says, and her voice is rough, whether from sleep or not Jordan doesn’t know. “come to bed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting up stiffly, Jordan nods and quietly follows her into the bedroom. Leah gets into bed first, still not looking at Jordan, but she holds the covers open for her as she slides in wordlessly next to her. The pillow is a little damp, Jordan realizes, but doesn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m still pissed at you,” Leah mumbles into the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Jordan sighs. “I am too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the morning, they finally talk. It’s messy — both of them end up with tears in their eyes again at some point, with sharp words and raised voices — but they work through it. They talk about Jordan’s insecurities, Leah’s behavior that can inflame her, and the hurtful ways they lash out sometimes. They both apologize, and promise to work to be better. It’s not perfect — they’re not perfect — but eventually, they’re all cried out, tentatively holding hands over the countertop again and sipping tea.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Besides signing for Arsenal,” Jordan mumbles, and Leah holds back an affectionate eye roll because </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jordan would start a sentence like that, “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Lee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leah strokes her thumb over Jordan’s hand. “Jord, I couldn’t even look at someone else the way I look at you. C’mere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they fall into bed again, this time tugging at shirts and mouthing at necks, it’s quieter than usual. Affirming. Jordan squeezes Leah’s hand, and Leah squeezes back. It feels like coming home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>//</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For both Jordan and Leah, family is everything. Which is why it means so much to Leah to see how well Jordan gets on with her family. She loves Jordan’s parents, as well, of course, but they just live much farther in the north, whereas Leah’s family makes it to almost every game.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leah and Jordan are back in Milton Keynes for a rare weekend off, and Leah still feels a surge of warmth when she thinks about how Jordan tagging along has become basically a foregone conclusion. She’s playing FIFA with Jacob now, Leah watching fondly from the kitchen while her mum makes tea for them both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s good for you, love.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leah turns around suddenly, almost embarrassed at getting caught with what she’s sure were hearts in her eyes, but her mum’s knowing smile says it all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Leah murmurs, unable to hide her smile, “she really is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They turn back to the scene in front of them, just in time to see Jordan throw up the controller in outrage as Jacob scores another goal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What- Are you kidding me! That was so obviously offside, I-! Where are they getting these refs!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Jord,” Jacob shrugs, smirking, “looks like you’re a little rusty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I taught him everything I know!” Leah calls over from the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, so why is it that I always beat you, eh?” Jordan retorts just as quickly, and the house instantly fills with laughter from Leah’s family. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Traitors</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She can’t find it in herself to be mad, though. It all just feels so right — this moment, her family, and how lucky she is to have them all together like this. Even (maybe especially) if it means Jordan getting her arse kicked at FIFA.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lol when i said i was thinking about taking a break on my last leah/jordan fic i actually had bits of this drafted, especially since a few people asked for more established relationship — i love giving the people what they want! but that fight scene took me for-fucking-ever (and i'm still not happy with it, but i just wanted to get this out already). since these are all unrelated mini snippets i can (and might) totally add some more someday — let me know what you want to see! &amp; be specific! hope you all are staying safe and well :)</p><p>btw when writing that fight i reread the one from <a>this</a> fic by blake0tyler constantly. hopefully i did my own take on it but theirs (and the whole fic!) is so fucking good check it out if you like good writing</p></blockquote></div></div>
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